


Twenty One

by ThePancakePenguin



Series: Markings Made On My Skin [6]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Blurryface, Denial, Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:26:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePancakePenguin/pseuds/ThePancakePenguin
Summary: Tyler forms a band.





	

This is one of the best decisions Tyler's ever made.

He'd been talking to Nick and Chris, and they seemed interested in collaborating, which wasn't all that new to Tyler. The only reason he even started writing is because he realized he could work  _with_  his demons to  _make_  something instead of destroying himself. 

Playing shows has become his obsession. The only way he gets by nowadays is screaming in front of fifteen clueless people with the occasional bonus of one of them complementing them afterwards.

He found a purpose in working hard for people who mostly didn't care.

He was wrapping cords around his arm for transportation when Chris called him over to where he was talking to someone who had stayed after the show. It was probably the friend he had mentioned the other day. The one Chris gave their CD to. Jack? Maybe John? He set the equipment down by one of the speakers and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, the grime coming off easily and staining his legs.

He nearly trips over his own feet when he actually sees the guy from the front.

His hazel eyes are framed in what looks like  ~~blood~~  red paint. It ran down his cheeks like dried tear stains, contrasting his pale face dramatically. Chris doesn't seemed disturbed by this, so it must be normal for this guy to dabble in over-the-top makeup.

Or Chris doesn't see it.

The stranger smiles brightly when he sees Tyler, looking him up and down. A desperate part of him wants this guy to be surprised and possibly question his own markings, but no such thing happens. His widened eyes are _only the shock of the singer of the band that just performed standing in front of him._

"Oh hey! That show was sick; you've got a lot of energy. I loved it. I'm Josh." He holds out a hand. His fingers are coated in red too.

Tyler takes it, pulling his mask back on. "Thanks man, Tyler."

 _It's only his imagination_ that Josh looks at his hand a little too long after they've greeted each other. _It's just a coincidence_ that Josh falters when he looks down at the smudged keys of the piano after offering to help load up their gear.

When Tyler washes his hands when he gets home, the usually muddy color the water becomes as it spills over his fingers is ~~_not_~~ tinted pink.

 


End file.
